Tiny-ish

There is a tiny town smack-dab in the middle of Utah called Manti.

And when I say tiny, I mean tiny. You drive through canyons to get there, past miles of wide fields, waving at sheep and cows as you go. The houses come only as often as the fence posts end. Then, suddenly, you are THERE. Tiny shops line the tiny street for a block or two until the buildings end and the fields and the sheep and the cows begin again. It's a quaint place. It's open, and empty of noise or busyness. Surrounding the valley is a guardian row of distant yet not-too-distant mountains.

On a hill in this tiny town stands a white castle, one tower on each end, its grounds garnished with a few trees and short white benches. Above the entrance, the castle proclaims in all-caps "HOLINESS TO THE LORD," then, "THE HOUSE OF THE LORD."

The castle is a temple. I went there yesterday with a group of young adults--a group of friends, as a church activity--and felt the magnificence that is there. The beauty of the edifice itself inspires, that is true; but more importantly, there is a feeling of peace there. Of comfort. Of perfection, even, as much perfection as can be achieved in this world. It was amazing...in a tiny little town on a tiny little street, we found the greatest, largest, grandest thing of all: a closeness to the Lord of all creation.